Opposites Attract
by Musicalscars97
Summary: Opposites attract, many people have said. A farm boy and a mysterious young redhead may prove that when their paths miraculously cross after a series of fortunate and unfortunate events. Post WW II AU. One shot. More Luke/Mara is needed on this site.


_Nevada, USA_

 _July, 1946_

Luke Skywalker's day off was always on Saturdays; that was the _one_ day Uncle Owen couldn't plague him with complains and nag him about responsibility. That was an unspoken promise in the Lars family. So when at 6:00 am Luke heard his uncle call out his name in a hurry, he just put his pillow over his head and tried to get back to sleep.

"Luke! Get down here!" Uncle Owen didn't give up.

After a few more unbearable minutes, Luke got up and walked down the stairs, ready to confront his uncle.

He found him in the kitchen with Aunt Beru; Luke half-expected for her to take his side and tell her husband to leave their nephew alone, but she just focused on her cup of coffee and pretended to read the newspaper.

"Uncle Owen," Luke said as politely as he could, "maybe you didn't notice, but today is Saturday."

"You think I don't know the days of the week?" Uncle Owen said a bit roughly. "Never mind the day, boy. I need you to get to work immediately."

Luke's tanned face grew crimson with anger at this injustice. "But I was going out with Biggs today—we were going to… Hey, it's my free day!"

"Quiet down, you. And don't you take that tone with me. Just till 12:00 pm do I need you to be out there. After that you can waste your time however you wish it."

Luke turned to Aunt Beru for support, but she still ignored them.

He resigned and just sat at the table with them. Aunt Beru served breakfast quietly.

Watching his long face, Uncle Owen said, his voice almost softened: "I'm sorry Luke. It's for your own good, I swear."

Luke didn't understand what he could mean by that, and he was in such a mood that he didn't even try.

* * *

Having just turned nineteen years old, Luke wasn't the most immature person of his age, yet many of his teenage attitudes still remained. As he worked under the scorching sun of the approaching noon of mid-July, dragging his feet over the yellowish pasture, he couldn't help but to complain out loud about how unfair his Uncle was—how unfair life was as a whole.

Must he be destined to such plainness? Such unexciting, boring existence? He always felt he wasn't… But life didn't exactly help him change in the slightest. He also never tried himself.

He wanted something else, he just didn't know _what_.

He still resented the fact that his guardians didn't allow him to fight in the previous war, when he had been more than willing to do so. They were as protective as strict, and Luke appreciated it, though he felt he soon would have to break their hearts with their actions. He felt conflict would come back, and then, nothing could stop him.

He wished he could tell them. Specially Uncle Owen. And he was so mad with the old man at the moment that he decided to go against his wishes and orders, rushing back to the house to give him a piece of his mind.

On reaching the back door, Luke instantly heard his uncle's voice, and at first his heart sunk to his stomach as he noticed Owen's violent screams, but soon enough Luke was at ease again, for his uncle was not fighting with Aunt Beru. A second male voice spoke, though this one was significantly calmer. It was hard to believe both belonged to the same conversation, so different they sounded. Uncle Owen was furious beyond reason, the other discussed with rationality and peace.

Luke didn't understand much of the argument, and he grew very uneasy when he heard them mention his name. There was no time to figure out how he fitted into all that, since Owen practically kicked out the other man from the house. Luke hid just as the man went out; he managed to barely see and aged face and grey hair. Instantly Luke burst into the house, making Uncle Owen jump.

"Christ kid, you scared me! I thought…" he stopped.

"Who was that?" Luke inquired with much curiosity.

Uncle Owen turned as white as the shirt he was wearing. "Never should you mind!" he cried. "And what are you even doing here? It's barely 11:20! I told you to work till noon!"

"I'm sorry, it's just I—"

"Go to your room immediately!"

"Uncle Owen, why were you fighting with that man?"

"It's none of your business!"

"Oh yeah? Then why'd you mention me?"

Uncle Owen was silent.

"And am I crazy…" Luke muttered almost to himself. "Or did he mention my father—?"

"Enough, Luke! No more of this!"

Luke asked questions in vain, Uncle Owen paid him no attention and stalked out of the kitchen.

Luke considered for a moment to go after him, but he knew their conversation wouldn't get any better than what they just had… And so he went for another alternative.

He ran outside and took the same path he had seen the stranger take just before. It took him a few minutes but at last he found him. Unsure of who this character was, Luke simply followed him, careful of not being seen.

The stranger, shockingly, seemed to have no other mode of transportation apart from his own feet. Luke considered to just forget about the whole thing and go back home, but something in him awoke, telling him he was _just_ getting on the right path.

He walked along the highway, his forehead dripping with perspiration when he realized—

The stranger was being followed by someone else.

Luke gulped, watching a black car that passed him by, going ridiculously slow to keep up with the old man.

A sleeping instinct of heroism awoken, Luke ran to the old man.

"Excuse me, sir," he said breathlessly. "I don't mean to scare you… but there's someone following you!"

The old man didn't stop his walk. "Yes, I noticed," he spoke as calmly as when Uncle Owen was shouting at him before. "Though telling me about it sort of negates the intention, Young Luke. You were doing an all right job before."

"Uh? Oh, I don't mean myself… I wasn't following you! Okay, but… There's a car after you!"

"If I noticed the quiet step of a small blond boy behind me, should you think I'm unaware of what you're warning me about?" the old man smiled.

Luke scratched his head. "So, um. What will you do, Mr.…?"

"Kenobi. You may call me Ben Kenobi. Why, keep walking, I suppose. It's nice of you to accompany me."

Luke grinned, realized they were now a long way from the farm.

"I should probably get back…"

"Oh so you don't wish to ask me anything then? Why were you following me, Luke?"

"Well, I do want to know but… I don't know. Wait," he just thought. "How come you know my name?"

"That's a good question. Your parents happened to mention it to me before they died."

Luke stopped in the tracks, he forced the old man to do the same. "You knew my parents?"

The old man looked ahead at the sun-bathed path. "Yes. I did."

A million questions formed within Luke's mind, he couldn't actually say any out loud as the car that had been following the old man before almost ran them over. The man named Kenobi pushed Luke out of the way, and just as Luke tried to rise from the ground again, he heard the loud-ringing of bullets flying in the air. The young boy docked and kept his head down, he barely managed to see amidst the heist how a black-clothed individual forced the old man into the black car.

"Sir!" Luke cried. "Mr. Ben Kenobi!"

All thoughts apart from helping faded from Luke's mind. He ran after the car but it took only a few seconds to see it disappear before his very eyes.

A great lump formed in his throat. That poor man. He had been nice. Weird to an extent, yeah, but also kind. And he saved his life. And he actually knew Luke's parents…

Luke stared at either direction he could take: go back home to the farm and try to forget about what had just happened…

Or what he decided on, following the path ahead and pray for whatever was to come.

He tried to hitch a ride but no one stopped to help.

He walked for at least two hours till at last a car stopped beside him: it was a dusty, old, pick-up truck. Silver in color but with many scratches.

The driver glanced at Luke from his seat, a hand on the wheel and the other removing his sunglasses. "Are you lost, kid?" he asked, his voice rough but not intimidating.

Luke shook his head. "Not exactly. I just need a ride."

"Yeah, I noticed," the driver said and grinned looking at the man on the passenger's seat. "Where do you want to go?"

"Well…" Luke stammered. "I'm not sure. Just ahead."

"I see," the driver said. "Well, you don't look particularly dangerous… sure I can give you a ride. As long as you pay me."

"Oh," Luke said. "I don't really have any money with me… but I can later go home and get it. I'm Luke Skywalker, by the way."

"I didn't ask. Alright, kid, don't stare like that," he laughed. "I'm Han Solo. Mmhh, okay. But you have to pay me. Understand?"

Luke nodded.

"Scooch, Chewie. Give the kid some space."

"Nice to meet you," Luke said, shaking the hand of the rather hairy man next to Han.

The man called Chewie said something as he smiled, but Luke couldn't understand him.

"Beg your pardon," Luke said. "What language is that?"

"None of your business, kid." Han said rather defensibly. "What are you, from immigration?"

"No."

"Then let it go... Ahead we go then."

* * *

Many times extraordinary things happen in real life. So incredible they seem when we relate them, that they seem pretty much foolish or impossible as we hear them. Nevertheless they happen. History has proved that life is stranger than fiction.

Luke wasn't sure of what he expected when he got on the car of that stranger, he only knew that he wished fate would put him in the right path.

His mind thought of nothing but on his Parents' friend, and so he felt rage like never before in his life when from a distance, up in the mountains, he saw the Hollywood sign.

"Why are you taking me here?" he cried. "Hey you promised—"

"Kid, shut up." Han said calmly. "For starters, you didn't even know where you wanted to go, so you can't complain. Second of all, this is where _ahead_ happened to be from the highway in which we found you. And third—I want a drink," he said as he parked the truck in the parking lot of a night club. It was night time now. Luke could hardly believe it.

"And do you still expect me to pay?"

Han's eyes shot a glare of warning. "Certainly. Can't expect a free ride on the Falcon for nothing!"

Luke sighed. For the whole day he had to endure Han bragging about his car, which frankly, Luke didn't think it was so swell. "This piece of junk is hardly worth a freaking dollar," Luke mocked.

Chewie whined. Han stared, mouth opened in disbelief. "Listen kid, you can whine about anything else you want—but don't insult my baby. Not the Falcon: Take. It. Back."

Luke snorted. "And by the way, I really doubt you get many girls with this car as you claimed. And that lie about you being a race car—"

"I am a race driver!"

"That's really hard to believe considering what I witnessed today. Of course, maybe it was the fact you were driving this piece of—"

Han got out of the car, he opened the other door and pulled Luke out with great strength. Luke barely realized what was happening when Han's fist found his jaw. Taking a moment to collect himself, Luke jumped on the driver, never caring the fact that his opponent was so much bigger and older.

The two wrestled on the ground for some time. Spinning and kicking till they smacked against a car, which prompted for an alarm to loudly go off. "See what you did kid?" Han said breathlessly and spat on the floor.

Luke also stood from the ground. Then looked at the car they had hit. It was a deep, luscious black. The very same that had taken Kenobi!

Luke at first just stared, unable to believe his _good_ luck.

"Piss off, I'm going for my drink," Han said. Chewie was by his side now. He looked at Luke as if he wished to help him get up, but he just followed Han into the night club.

"Wait," Luke cried. "Can I go with you?"

Han snorted. "You've got some nerve, kid." He smiled a handsome and irreverent smile. "I like that. Come along. But I am not paying for anything so best try to steal something."

Luke entered the night club with Han and Chewie. And just by the manner in which they carried themselves and the way the bartender greeted them, Luke thought for a second they might be the coolest men he had ever encountered.

But forget them, he had to focus and try to find, if not Kenobi, the man that had taken him.

His sky-blue eyes searched the club, never finding anyone who looked remotely suspicious. He stared hard at everyone, growing impatient by the minute.

Walking under the sound of the dark music, Luke suddenly thought of home. What would his uncle and aunt say about his disappearance? He horribly felt they might blame Kenobi.

Kenobi. Oh where could he be? His eyes kept searching and searching and… Whoa. Those who seek truly _always_ find. Maybe not what they were looking for but… Whoa. Luke couldn't help the constant sounds of awe that escaped him. He had just spotted what he was sure was the most beautiful woman that had ever existed.

It had been impossible not to stop to appreciate her beauty. Her exotic hair alone was enough to capture your attention. It was the brightest fiery red he had ever witnessed. Maybe staring at the bloodshot Nevada sunsets could compare, though certainly not compete. Her figure, which was clad with a gorgeous sparkly purple dress, could absolutely stop traffic, Luke thought. It was graceful, full and feminine. Her face, even from a distance could be well observed: It was an arresting face, fair skin; soft, attractive features. Rosy lips soft and inviting. Eyes emerald green. She was a beauty… Luke couldn't possibly describe her otherwise.

His brain tried to order his eyes to continue his search, yet they would not cooperate and just continue to gaze upon her violent beauty.

"Here you go, Luke," he heard Han's voice beside him, handing him a napkin. "Clean all that drool, please."

Chewie laughed loudly at that and said something that also made Han laugh, and though Luke couldn't understand, he was sure it was a sort of joke about him.

"Maybe a drink, too, for all that thirst," Han went on and handed Luke a glass.

"I thought you weren't buying me anything," Luke managed to say, his eyes still glued to the beautiful red-headed woman.

"Well, I am not planning on paying for it. She's hot, yes but not really my type to be honest. She looks like someone you should watch your back from… And way out of your league, Junior."

Luke didn't care for his words, and better for him that Han wouldn't go after her.

But he also wasn't planning on going after her! He had a very important reason for being in the club and picking up women wasn't it—he was just wasting his time!

"So why don't you go and talk to her?" Han said.

"I thought you said she was out of my league."

"Yeah, that's exactly why you should go. It'd be a fun sight. I might even forget the way you insulted me before."

"And forget about the money I owe you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Luke."

Luke laughed and finished his drink.

He told himself he wasn't going to worry about the beautiful girl again, but it just so happened he looked at her, and saw she was moving.

 _Don't go._ A voice within Luke begged. _Oh don't go!_

He didn't know what force came over him as he stood to follow her, but he was stopped immediately as she had gone into the VIP zone. "Members only," the security guard said, his voice harsh. "What's your name?"

"Um," Luke's mind went black, he thought about giving a fake name but fear prompted rashness and stupidity and he found himself confessing his own name! "Mr. Skywalker," he said and immediately hated himself.

He was ready to be kicked out of the place harder than out of the Falcon by Han; instead, he saw the guard do a double take, gasp and turn paper-white pale. His name, better said, his father's name had caused that effect, and common sense told him he needed to get out of there immediately.

He ran away, hauled ass away from the VIP section.

* * *

Mara Jade sat, heavy drink in hand at the VIP section, listening to the conversation with a face full of disbelief. And curiosity. And goddamn fear.

Two minutes had passed since the guard came in shouting that a young man who called himself Skywalker had asked to be allowed in.

Most people declare it to be impossible. How could a dead man speak?

Yet she nonetheless heard her boss's words, commanding to search the place at once.

She had never met Anakin Skywalker, yet she had heard a lot… She imagined a great tall man. Scary looking and mean.

She got up, and heard her boss, Palpatine, yell at the guard, "Well, what did he look like? What color was his hair? How was he dressed?"

"S—sir I barely got to see him. I'm sorry! Well, he was a blond, I am sure, and he had blue eyes."

"OH, a blond man with blue eyes!" Palpatine cried sarcastically. "Goodness, such a rare thing in California!"

Mara Jade smiled.

"Well, you heard the man: go and search. Bring him, I don't care if dead or alive." Palpatine concluded.

Mara Jade curtsied to her boss and went out of the VIP section.

Her eyes searched the room, but Palpatine was right: there were way too fucking many blond men in California. Not that she disliked them, but they were rather tiring. Just a bunch of ridiculous womanizers. Foolish drunks that only dated stupid models and actresses.

Ugh, if she was ever to find a husband she needed to move to another state.

But, her mind was wandering. She shouldn't allow that. Focus on finding Skywalker—if you can, kill him!

She saw her peers search the entirety of the dance floor. She found that ridiculous, a man in hiding wouldn't just stay there dancing. Not even Californians could be so foolish. The man had most certainly gone from the club. Though she wouldn't just give up—she'd never disappoint Palpatine.

The night was hot and she found she needed some fresh air before continuing. She got out into the balcony almost by the roof, where many artistic flower pots surrounded her, giving the oppressive air a nice smell. She enjoyed the moment, till behind the crowd of flowers she spotted a face:

Before anything, the eyes: they were… nice, she had to admit. Sky-blue and angel-like. They hardly blinked as they gazed upon her; thinking her unaware. She grinned at his stupidity. Who could hide from a trained assassin? She pulled out a cigarette from her purse and started smocking and just sat to admire the night sky. Also, allow the guy to see her better.

She had noticed before how he stared at her in the dance floor. He was just so _not_ subtle. It was at first a good boost for her vanity. Then annoying. Now simply… well, slightly amusing in a night when she was supposed to look for a ghost or a stupid prankster.

He looked young, couldn't be a single year older than herself. She had only been involved with older man. Never had a friend or someone to have fun with. Innocent fun: and the boy looked only that.

"It's getting darker," she said calmly but loud. "I wonder how you can still see me from your hiding place."

She heard him move awkwardly, making a mess of the flowers and smacking his head against the wall, as well as mutter a few words of distress. She repressed a laugh.

"I—I'm sorry," she heard him mutter. His voice was also very youthful. "I was just…"

"Hey, could've been worse," she teased. "At least I can see both your hands."

She saw him blush.

He revealed himself and cautiously walked to her.

He wasn't tall or magnificent, but up-close she could admire his handsome features. There was something incredibly attractive and wholesome in his looks. Apart from his fine eyes which she had already admired before, his sunny blond hair against really tanned face made him shine. She imagined him on a beach, maybe surfing and charming girls with his dorkiness. The kind of young man she could never get…

"What's your name?" she asked.

She saw him doubt, inwardly she smiled thinking she was making him nervous. "I'm Luke." He simply said.

 _Appropriate name._

"And yours?" he eagerly asked.

She also doubted. "Mara Jade." She blew smoke from her cigarette.

Perfect white teeth smiled at her. "That's very pretty. Appropriate name for you."

She did a double take. Strange that both should think the same about the other's name…

"You think so?"

He nodded. "Once," he seemed nervous but went on, "I saw one of my aunt's friends wear a jade necklace. I remember thinking it must've been really expensive. I felt sad because my aunt couldn't get one. But the color alone accounted for the price, I am sure. It was the most arresting emerald green. Though it pales when compared to your eyes, Miss Jade."

She could hardly believe it, and glad she was that there was no mirror close by to confirm in, but she was sure she had blushed. Violently. Inexplicably. Ugh, she had to look away. Hating that her cheeks probably matched her flame-red hair.

It was the sweetness of the compliment he gave her, so unexpected and without expecting anything in return. She was sure it was a blunder, for he immediately stopped talking when he realized what he had said.

Blowing another grey cloud of smoke, she glanced at him and saw he was also quite flushed.

There were a few moments of silence after that.

"You know," it was Luke who broke the silence. "You shouldn't smoke Miss Jade."

Completely free from blushes now, she turned to see him.

"Yes," she mockingly said, "lung cancer, am I right?

He nodded. "I hear it's getting more and more people."

"So did the war. So do diseases. Car crashes. Etc. You have to die someday, you know, and that can't be helped. So why fear it?"

 _Spoken like a true assassin, Mara Jade._

"Why speed it, though?" he retorted.

She waited a moment. "Why not? Want one?" she offered him a cigarette but he didn't smile.

"No thank you. Goodbye."

She saw shocked as he turned to leave. She wasn't expecting that. "What?" she cried before she could stop herself. "You're leaving? But why?"

She saw the astonishment in his face at her words and felt she needed to fix that. His smile made everything worse.

"I mean," she said, her voice struggling to appear careless. "Fine. Whatever. What a touchy boy you are."

"Oh yeah?" he was by her side again, and she, subconsciously (maybe) moved slightly to give him space. He sat before her. "Boy, am I? Well, how old are you?"

She was taken aback. "Twenty five," she lied.

He snorted. "Yeah, and I'm fifty. How old are you really?"

She bit her lip. "Twenty one. How else would I be allowed in a night club?"

He smiled like a mischievous boy. "Yeah. Me, too."

She didn't know why but she was smiling as well. "All right," she looked down and cleared her throat. "I'm twenty."

"Me, too."

Could she, a ruthless and often called heartless assassin have anything in common with this sweet, cute, innocent dork of a boy really?

"I'm nineteen," she admitted, and her heart skipped a beat. What the hell! Why had she been honest to a stranger?!

"Me, too," he smiled even more broadly at her trust and honesty and she thought, _'there's why!'_

She had earned a truthful, genuine smile from her companion. And what a reward it was! It shouldn't have made her as happy as it did. Had she ever felt so pure before?

They were having a moment, she thought with hope and growing affection as well as excitement _. Or am I imagining it?_ Nop.

It didn't matter to her that they were strangers, and it seemed that neither did he because she saw his face approach her own. She saw him close his eyes and she imitated him. Her heart beating in her ears with violent strength, she found herself lost in the moment, and on his lips.

The kiss was soft, he just gently brushed his lips against her own, waiting for her to allow anything else. She wasn't used to having power simply granted. She had to always take it with force and violence. There was more than chivalry in the act, she hoped. This was a good, decent boy if she ever saw one.

She slowly opened her mouth and allowed him to thrust his tongue, caressing and massaging the inside of her mouth; she felt herself lost in the moment. A wonderful tickling sensation attacked her belly, and she saw no alternative but to assume this was what people meant when they spoke of butterflies in one's stomach.

The butterflies were distributing through her whole body, though. And quickly, as their kiss deepened, she felt her skin flush and her breathing grow loud and quick.

Luke's hands had been on her cheeks, then they moved to her head with a precious gesture that showed he cherished her and the moment.

She had _had_ lovers before, but not even entire nights could compare to the emotion that Luke had put into their first kiss.

She climbed his lap and sat on top of him, opening her eyes, she saw him smile stupidly happy, like he couldn't believe this was happening. Well, neither did she. She giggled like a school girl, much against her will, and threw her arms around his neck. Luke's hands were on her waist, he gently pressed her against his body, caressing her side, making her want him more.

"Do you…" Mara gasped. "Want to go somewhere?"

She saw fear and uncertainty on his face, and that pained her deeply. Nonetheless, he at last smiled, kissed her once more, and taking her hand, rose to go.

They walked back into the club, swiftly and impatiently; linked together, his arm around her, his lips every so often kissing the top of her head and whispering how beautiful she was.

They were stopped as they passed the center of the dancefloor.

"Well done, Jade!" the security guard said. "You found him!"

"Uh?" Mara shook her head, not understanding.

"Why, of course," Palpatine smiled wickedly. "Of course it had to be you. Who else could've found Skywalker?"

Mara turned to see Luke. "You're mistaken," she said. "This is just some boy. He's not Skywalker!"

"Not the senior, he isn't," Palpatine hissed. "Anakin is long dead. This must be his son, though we somehow didn't know he had any offspring! Oh he's his spitting image! I almost don't want to kill him."

Mara Jade gasped, horrified. Kill him?!

"Kill me?" Luke questioned, astonished.

"If he's as sneaky as his father we can't risk it. Mara Jade, you who are holding him, do it. Now. Kill him!"

Mara Jade turned to see the young man that was still holding her. "Are you Anakin Skywalker's son?" she asked. "Were you the one who requested entrance earlier?"

Luke's face was so close to her own. "Yes." He said. "I wanted to go in because I wanted to talk to you. Because I liked you."

He made no move to run away. His life was on her hands.

"I will not kill in here we're everyone can see!" she cried. "Let me take him outside."

She was allowed to do so.

She ran, dragging Luke with her.

Outside in the parking lot, she pulled a gun from her purse and fired.

"Mara!" Luke cried. "Would you actually—oh!"

She had just fired in the air. Many times. Many people screamed around.

"Come on!" she cried and directed Luke to a car. The very same that had taken Kenobi.

* * *

As she drove, something clicked inside Luke's head.

"Mara," he said. "Were you the one who kidnapped Mr. Ben Kenobi?"

She avoided his eyes. "Um, he's actually called Obi-Wan. He was a war general. During the first World War, I mean."

Luke shook his head disapprovingly, he neared her and she sighed.

"All right. Listen, I am not exactly proud of my life prior to knowing you."

"No? Then is it left behind?"

"I abandoned it the second I decided I couldn't kill you."

Luke smiled. "Am I that important to you?"

He saw her roll her beautiful eyes. "Oh get over yourself. It means… You could become important to me."

"I think I already am."

"Oh give it a rest."

Luke was still smiling. He reached over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You are important to me, you know."

He saw her blush. She stopped the car for a moment to pull him for a big kiss.

Later, Luke asked, "Hey, do you happen to know what they did to Ben—I mean, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Oh shit," she opened her eyes wide, suddenly remembering. "He's in the trunk of the car."

"What?" Luke cried in a shrilled voice. "Well, let's get him out! Poor fellow!"

"Meh, he's been in worst situations. He and Skywalker lived through the Great War."

"Where are we going, Mara Jade?"

"I don't know. Does it matter much to you?"

"No," Luke said, realizing it was the truth. "I am glad to be with you. I can't wait to talk to Kenobi, though. I bet he has the greatest stories about my parents…"

Night was soon to disappear. Luke took over and started driving. Mara Jade rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep. He kissed her forehead with an adoring gesture. Staring at her beauty and reminiscing her bravery, he really thought, he knew, he would love this woman.

It didn't matter what the morning would bring, he watched ahead at the rising sun, truly loving life for the first time. Thanking whatever forces, deities, fate or sheer luck that brought him to this path. He thanked for Mara Jade, glad that though they were so different, they were instantly attracted to each other.

Whatever danger fell on him, Luke would always be happy, all cause opposites attract.

 _THE END_

* * *

 _ **AN:**_ Thanks to anyone who read this story! If you enjoyed please review and let me know. Maybe even favorite? Just reading is appreciated :)

This came to my mind while I was writing a backstory for another AU story I'm currently working on called _Wild Is The Wind_ ; check it out if you can!

I literally wrote it in two sittings, so I hope there aren't many mistakes!

Always loved this pairing. I think one of the main reasons I can't really love the new trilogy is that Disney practically implied Luke NEVER found love. Luke Skywalker? Come on, of course he had to! Anyway, they still have one more movie to fix what they did to the Skywalker saga.


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